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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109521">Why I'm In Denial</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciels_trashland/pseuds/ciels_trashland'>ciels_trashland</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitelynotdaniel/pseuds/definitelynotdaniel'>definitelynotdaniel</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkfowl/pseuds/Inkfowl'>Inkfowl</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile'>Miss_Vile</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/w13zhao/pseuds/w13zhao'>w13zhao</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosthatpokaimon/pseuds/whosthatpokaimon'>whosthatpokaimon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gotham's Secret Hideout [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gotham (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alvarez is a stripper don't question it, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Decisions, Blow Jobs, Drinking &amp; Talking, Drinking to Cope, Gossip, Jim is a flirt, M/M, Oswald is confused, Roleplay, Sooooo much sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:14:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109521</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciels_trashland/pseuds/ciels_trashland, https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitelynotdaniel/pseuds/definitelynotdaniel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkfowl/pseuds/Inkfowl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/w13zhao/pseuds/w13zhao, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosthatpokaimon/pseuds/whosthatpokaimon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Oswald Cobblepot</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile">Miss_Vile</a><br/><b>Edward Nygma</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosthatpokaimon/pseuds/whosthatpokaimon">whosthatpokaimon</a><br/><b>Jim Gordon</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkfowl/pseuds/Inkfowl">Inkfowl</a><br/><b>Alvarez</b> played by <a href="https://ynngaa.tumblr.com/">Ynnga</a><br/><b>Lee Thompkins</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciels_trashland/pseuds/ciels_trashland">ciels_trashland</a><br/><b>Barbara Kean</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yanderebeats/pseuds/Yanderebeats">Yanderebeats</a><br/><b>Victor Zsasz</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/w13zhao">w13zhao</a><br/></p>
    </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alvarez/Victor Zsasz, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Gotham's Secret Hideout [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2215635</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Why I'm In Denial</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Oswald Cobblepot</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile">Miss_Vile</a><br/><b>Edward Nygma</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosthatpokaimon/pseuds/whosthatpokaimon">whosthatpokaimon</a><br/><b>Jim Gordon</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkfowl/pseuds/Inkfowl">Inkfowl</a><br/><b>Alvarez</b> played by <a href="https://ynngaa.tumblr.com/">Ynnga</a><br/><b>Lee Thompkins</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciels_trashland/pseuds/ciels_trashland">ciels_trashland</a><br/><b>Barbara Kean</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yanderebeats/pseuds/Yanderebeats">Yanderebeats</a><br/><b>Victor Zsasz</b> played by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/w13zhao">w13zhao</a><br/></p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This started off as a joke I made in Haven and then we all jumped on the idea and started a full RP for it. It's a mess and I love it. Y'all... It got so long. We just... kept goin'... oh mah lawd. We're in the middle of writing y'all a sequel. You have no idea what you just clicked on. -Miss_Vile</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Riddler stood on his stage, admiring the lights and the giant question mark sign… and all of the empty seats. He put his little show back together in the hopes that he could slink back into familiarity. So that maybe he could busy himself with a pet project and keep his mind off of what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, it certainly came as a surprise when the Penguin waltzed into his domain. The man’s angular silhouette in the green light from the stage filled him to the brim with nostalgia. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oswald?” The Riddler frowned, adjusting his footing and straightening his posture in an attempt to appear confident and not frazzled. He aimed for aloofness but cringed when his words came out more hostile and biting, “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Did I need an invitation?” Oswald gave him that petulant look and continued walking in as if he owned the place despite not having a foothold in the Narrows.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That didn't answer my question,”  Riddler gritted his teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm just here to see what sort of mischief you're up to nowadays,”  Oswald casually looked around the space, assessing the mess around him.  “Seeing as how not that long ago you had the audacity to mock me. Might as well give you an audience.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right on cue, Dr. Lee Thompkins glided into the room from one of the stage doors off to the side. She was nursing a nearly-empty glass in one hand and rubbing at her temple with the other. She stopped, looking around the room that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a storage room at Cherry’s, and sighed.  “Oh dear god, don't tell me you got this started up again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First Oswald, now Lee…  Riddler merely glanced at her.  “As if you would care, Lee.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald took notice of her too, although his tone was a little more pleasant.  “Can't say I'm surprised he did something like this before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he did,” She scoffed. “He made it obnoxiously big too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It wasn't made for you, anyways,”  Riddler pouted. He’d had just about enough of this, if these two wanted to chat that was fine, but he walked off to do more important things like fix up his death traps. He made sure to make as much noise with the curtain that led backstage as he could and groaned at how it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as slamming a door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. It was made for your </span>
  <em>
    <span>ego,”</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Oswald called out to him in the hopes he hadn’t stormed off too far. He gestured around the wide open room with the gaudy green features,  “What do you even do in a Riddle Factory?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee leaned against the stage,  “From memory, it was originally a place where Ed posed riddles to contestants and they had to answer correctly.  My assumption is it's the same thing here.  Except we're less willing to answer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So... just a regular Wednesday then?” Oswald smirked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pretty much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” Oswald stared off in the direction that Edward left and sighed. He’d been hoping to goad the man into </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> sort of reaction with his presence. What that reaction was and what he wanted from his former friend was a mystery even to him. Honestly, he’d hoped Edward could solve it for him. “Well, I have been here for a few minutes now and haven't been given a riddle. I'm just going to assume Edward is still struggling with them. So sad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Lee scoffed, “Not surprising.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, give your boyfriend my condolences when you see him next, I suppose,” Oswald turned towards the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, my what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your... boyfriend?” he turned, his brow crinkled, “I assumed you two were…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh god no. That ship sailed and crashed into an iceberg,” she chuckled at her pun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Oswald shifted on his feet and found his eyes drawn to the curtain once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. He’s all yours Oswald,”  she added a smirk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s… No…” he squirmed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what I meant to imply.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Not in your preferences anymore?” She crossed her arms with a cheeky grin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> preferences anymore,” he spat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure? Well, if my type was beautiful, tall, dark-haired people that ended up betraying me, then I’d have to agree with your position.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Riddler, who had certainly not been listening this whole time, came rushing back to the stage, the curtain billowing around him, “I will never </span>
  <em>
    <span>be Oswald's</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he spat as he struggled with the heavy fabric, tangling himself in it in the process.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald looked at him, holding his chin high.  He had to admit that Riddler’s adamant denial had a sting to it, but he could bite right back. “Still struggling with those riddles, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Edward?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I just chose to not give you any,” Riddler sneered, finally detangled and straightening his posture once again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A likely excuse.” Oswald gave both him and Lee a curt nod and made for the exit. He had work to do at the Lounge and certainly didn’t need to waste any more of his time with Ed’s petty games.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee and Riddler exchanged a look before she rolled her eyes, “Well, I'm not staying here alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She set her glass on a table and then left the Riddler to sulk.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So. Donut Wednesday, am I right?” Detective Alvarez spoke to Jim as he passed. The bullpen itself was eerily quiet, barely as much as a robbery to report to. With Sofia Falcone finally out of the picture and the Penguin and Riddler licking their wounds, there wasn’t much going on that was worth getting excited over. Aside from the surveillance system they’d secretly installed at the Lounge to keep tabs on the Penguin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The police captain paused, “Wait, it's Wednesday?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Alvarez nodded, “Time flies fast when you’re having fun, fun police.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim scoffed, rubbing at his eyes, “Or when you don't sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> you last sleep, Captain?” Alvarez asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wednesday.” Another pause. “Of...last week.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn,” Alvarez whistled. “Should I call Bullock? It would be better if someone had an eye on you when you’re so sleep-deprived.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, Harvey’s out of town. Remember? You’re stuck with just me til he gets back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah. Well, you can always take a nap in the storage room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“More like the SNORE-age room,” Jim chuckled to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim had never been the best with jokes, but Alvarez would give him this one. “Good one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, I think my sleep-deprived self should've become a comedian.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez rolled his eyes. “Please don’t, we have clowns already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're absolutely right,” he groaned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a beep from both of their phones. Alvarez checked his first, but it was just some generic ping alerting them to movement. Nothing too special.  “We have the Iceberg Lounge on radar in case of emergencies, and it looks like there was some activity. Should we investigate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim perked up at that,  “Uh...uh perhaps...I mean...ahem s-sure nothing like saying hi to, I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>investigating</span>
  </em>
  <span> Oswald.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez cocked his head and gave the police captain a look, “If you need backup in dealing with that mobster, I’ll be nearby.” Regardless of Jim’s response, Alvarez had every intention of following the Captain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim gave him a thumbs up and a tight smile before heading out to his car.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez watched him leave. Then he raced to his own car, sending a text to Harvey to keep him updated on the situation.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Penguin was already on his second drink of the evening. He’d hoped that seeing Ed earlier that day would give him some sort of closure, maybe even prove to himself that he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the man in green, but all he did was make himself upset. So, to the bar he went.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Iceberg Lounge wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> closed, but most of the lights were out and he’d sent all of his employees home. He didn’t want an audience for when he got drunk and inevitably got too honest with anyone who might lend an ear. So, it surprised him when he heard footsteps. He hadn't expected to see his </span>
  <em>
    <span>old friend</span>
  </em>
  <span> but he supposed he could share a few drinks with him and see what sort of favors he wanted this time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Good afternoon, Jim," Oswald said with a customary smile, with just a little added venom. He poured himself another glass and went ahead and grabbed an empty tumbler.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim strode across the floor towards the bar. It didn’t look like anything was amiss aside from the Penguin partaking in some late afternoon drinking on an empty stomach. "Oswald."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can I help you?" Oswald asked with the bare minimum of hospitality.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Just checking things out here," Jim looked around the empty Lounge, his eyes ending on its owner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sure you are," he glared. Jim was clearly up to something and he didn’t like being out of the know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alvarez mentioned something might be going on." Time for his excuse. "Thought I'd drop by."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald gestured around. "I am literally just existing. Sorry to offend." Why the hell was Alvarez interested in his business? He must have had some ulterior motive for sending Jim his way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"None taken." Jim shifted on the balls of his feet, unsure if he should take a seat or not. There was too much silence between them and, in this situation, Jim figured he should be the one to break it. "But uh, while I'm here, I might ask for a drink? Need a bit of a pick-me-up and coffee hasn't been doing the trick."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Sure. The usual?" Oswald turned towards the row of liquor bottles and grabbed the bottle he recalled the man ordering years ago when he first opened </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oswald’s</span>
  </em>
  <span>. "Or are you more of a Jankey Piss man nowadays?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim rolled his eyes. "I uh...I'll just stick to the usual this time."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald poured the drink and slid it across the bar. Jim’s demeanor seemed… off. The man kept stumbling over his words for reasons he couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe putting a little alcohol in him would make him more honest. Or, at the very least, settle his nerves. "It's on the house."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim wasn't sure why, there usually wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> free from the Penguin, but he also knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. "You're </span>
  <em>
    <span>too kind</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doors opened once again as Detective Alvarez stepped inside. He smiled as he walked in and tried to shake the frost from his shoulders, "Hello. It’s cold outside, hope I’m not interrupting."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim cracked a grin when he thought of the perfect response, "Well it's not much warmer in here. It's the </span>
  <em>
    <span>ICEBERG</span>
  </em>
  <span> lounge after all."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez glanced around and muttered under his breath as he took off his coat, "I don't know about that… It’s quite warm in here with you two."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald, already tipsy, barely suppressed a giggle at Jim's horrible joke, "Like he said, this is the Iceberg Lounge. You think it's any warmer inside?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey Oz, don't steal my joke," Jim nudged Oswald from across the counter with his elbow. Oswald frowned at him at first, but he had enough alcohol in him that he ceased caring. "You've stolen enough already"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh? Like what, Jim? Because I run a </span>
  <em>
    <span>reputable business</span>
  </em>
  <span> nowadays," Oswald teased as he leaned into his elbows on the counter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Like my heart.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>That was what Jim wanted to say, but he had too much pride for that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Speaking of stealing…" Alvarez muttered as he managed to snatch Jim's drink while he was distracted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey! I didn't pay for that, give it back!" Jim protested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'll just put all of Jim's drinks on your tab. I'm sure I can just send the bill to the precinct," Oswald smirked as he poured Jim a new glass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim raised it with a genuine, sleep-deprived smile, "I'll drink to that."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez, automatically assuming the other two men were simply joking around, lifted his own stolen glass, "Cheers."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Jim took a sip, he turned his attention back to Oswald, "Are you gonna have one, Penguin?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald, who had been lost in staring at Jim's face, perked as he was addressed, "Hm? Oh. I was distracted."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I’ve gotta say. The interior design looks so much different without the centerpiece,” Alvarez sat down on the barstool beside Jim, “How's he doing lately?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald groaned and lolled his head back, "Same as usual. Petty, egotistical, and fawning over that doctor of his."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Right… Lee," Jim downed the last of his drink with a grimace and, speak of the devil…there she was, walking in and looking stunning as ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim ducked his head, "Oh, great… Uh… Hi Lee, looking well," he awkwardly smiled and waved at the woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring Jim completely, she took her own seat at the bar, "I’m not here for anything other than the alcohol."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald huffed and tried not to show how frustrated he was at how many customers he had on a night they usually weren’t busy and he had sent his staff home so he could be alone. Though, from the looks of it, Dr. Thompkins was in much the same boat. She had her own bar and yet she decided to come to the Lounge. Oswald guessed it had something to do with her </span>
  <em>
    <span>also</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanting to get far away from the insufferable lout that was Edward Nygma— figuratively and literally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim's responding laugh was just as awkward as his smile as he turned back to Oswald, "Good. Me, me too."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez only waved as she sat down, "Hello, Dr. Thompkins."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She waved back at the officer, having recognized him from when she worked as the medical examiner, "Hello, Alvarez."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Oswald cocked his head curiously, crossing his arms. "... How did I end up with two cops and a doctor at my bar? Not that I'm complaining."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Two?" Alvarez muttered, having forgotten people perceived him as an actual cop as he nervously glanced at the stripper poles placed around the club, "Oh… Right."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stress," Lee responded simply with a sigh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Alvarez, just because we're off duty doesn't mean we're not cops," Jim laughed half-heartedly as he felt the alcohol start to hit his system. Normally one drink wouldn’t get to him like this but it was nicer quality and he hadn’t gotten much sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez just smiled, lifting his glass, "You’re right. It’s the state of mind. I’ve always admired yours."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim made a finger gun at Alvarez with a grin, "That's right, we can't forget it, no matter how tempting it might be sometimes, and aw, thanks, Carlos."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Ugh," Oswald scoffed at the two officers, turning back to Lee, "Dr. Thompkins, you said you were here for a drink. What'll it be?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She put her hand on her chin in thought for a moment before responding, "What’s the smoothest whiskey you recommend?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Depends on the size of your wallet," he answered honestly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"... Dammit,” she frowned, “What would you recommend for a public-practice doctor from the Narrows?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim, noticing the banter, cleared his throat awkwardly, "Can I offer to get you a glass of what I’ve got?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee looked at him with a raised brow,"… Sure, Jim. Thanks, I guess…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim averted his gaze at the awkward exchange, "You're welcome. I guess."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Penguin poured her a whiskey over ice and slid it across the bar towards her in a move that he hadn’t pulled since bartending at Mooney’s. Once Lee grabbed the proffered drink, she first took a hesitant sip, but then an actual drink once she decided it wasn't laced with anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez glanced around once more, noticing how strangely void of employees it was, "Now that I think of it, why is it only you here, Mr. Cobblepot? Where is the rest of the staff?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"…I have a high turnover rate," Oswald sighed in response. He didn’t feel like delving into the real reason why the Lounge had been so empty. Especially not with them. Though, in all honesty, he could feel his tongue loosening by the minute.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can't imagine why, I'm sure you're such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasure</span>
  </em>
  <span> to work for," Jim smirked, hoping Oswald picked up on his now flirtatious tone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald huffed out a laugh, muttering, "You would know."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim choked on his drink, having not expected that response. After knocking his fist against his chest and coughing up whatever alcohol went down his windpipe, he stuttered, "I, uh… I have no idea what you're talking about."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald rolled his eyes, "Please, we're no strangers to trading favors, Jim."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. Favors…" Jim mumbled into his glass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The doors flung open and in walked Barbara Kean, dressed in a gold cocktail dress and with a gleam in her eye that spelled trouble, "Hey, bitches! Guess what time it is?!" she shouted as she sashayed towards the group.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"B-Barb?!" Jim nearly choked again as he watched the woman in question strut through the doors.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sitting at the bar, Alvarez decided to send one more text to Harvey. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“And now I’m pretending I’m checking something on my phone because Jim and Penguin are talking about exchanging favors and crazy Barbara came in and Lee Thompkins is here and I don’t know them that well…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, the party is here apparently," Oswald sighed, raising a brow at Barbara and hiding a bottle of his favorite top-shelf tequila that he knows she’ll snag if given the chance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"The party is wherever I go and I've been pre-gaming, baby," Barbara responded with a cheeky grin, taking a seat next to Lee and crossing her legs in one fluid motion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You know how to attract the crowds, Oswald," Jim laughed. Before Oswald could make some snide remark about how that hadn’t been his intention that evening and how they were intruding on his brooding time, Dr. Thompkins spoke up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I mean, Penguin does have access to the best booze in Gotham, it doesn’t surprise me that he attracts almost anyone and everyone to the Lounge," Lee shrugged, continuing to drink from her too-quickly emptying glass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald noted how the doctor's eyes flickered in the direction of Ms. Kean and suddenly it made a little more sense why she'd chosen the Lounge for her evening out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad you recognize quality when you see it," Oswald smiled. Then, having no filter, leaned across the bar, "And when you don't. Glad to know you aren't </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> suffering with that overblown bean pole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I may be cheap but I do recognize good style, Oswald. And even then, I’m unfortunately capable of making a few bad choices”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”  Alvarez perked up, ready to insert himself into the conversation. “Is one of those messy decisions not having a napkin under your glass, Dr. Thompkins?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gave him an odd look. “No, unfortunately not Alvarez.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man once again retreated into his own space, but luckily for him, he was getting looks from another. Across the bar, Barbara Kean was fixing him with a bewitching gaze. She didn’t make a sound, but she mouthed </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Call me.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> while miming a phone.  Alvarez blushed, but as he tried to return the flirtatious look, Jim interrupted him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alvarez, what are you looking at?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh...nothing, my eyes are tired. All the work. Police work." It seemed like no one believed that. Lee mumbled into her drink, Oswald scoffed, and Jim...well Jim did believe it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The hours have been exhausting, I can understand that,” Jim said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I knew you would.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald rolled his eyes, “Well, if you're so tired, Alvarez, there's a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pole</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can lean on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez put on the fakest of smiles, hoping it was merely a joke and that The Penguin didn’t know anything about his </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> occupation, “Thank you, Mr. Cobblepot for that wonderful suggestion. However, I’m very comfortable sitting at the bar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, in a slightly panicked manner, the certainly certified cop started whistling</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘conceal don’t feel don’t let them know’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a line from a very recognizable Disney movie. One that even the most out of the loop Gothamites would know whether they wanted to or not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Jim turned his head, “what song is that? I feel like I know it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh...it’s from Frozen. I...uh I watched it recently. Sorry, it just suddenly came over me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald groaned, rubbing at his temples, “Great, now it's stuck in </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee was next, with a shake of her head. “Why does it not surprise me that you’ve seen Frozen, Alvarez?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well at least he’s sticking with the club’s theme,” Jim chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez shrugged. “Well someone has to. Since there is no actual iceberg anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh! Don’t remind me,” Oswald threw his hands in the air. He would never live that failure down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lee made a swirling motion with her finger, “He got broken out with his brain all scrambled.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The brain-scrambling wasn’t intentional,” He frowned and then turned to her, “I guess we have you to thank for helping nurse him back to his old self. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Unfortunate</span>
  </em>
  <span> as it may be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, even I regret that moment of niceness.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez held out his finger to get the attention of their host and bartender, “Excuse me, may I please order a mimosa? I’m going to need one if this conversation goes in the direction I hope it is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald rolled his eyes but started making the drink anyway. “And what direction is that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know… exchanging stories about Ed Nygma? I mean, I only knew him a little at the GCPD, but I made a few observations.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, so it's Gossip Night. My favorite.” Oswald’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he handed Alvarez his drink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Glad to hear it. So, any hot takes on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>ex</span>
  </em>
  <span>-popsicle?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald was stunned into silence, but it gave everyone else a chance to share their own shock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim snorted. “Oh, can't wait to hear about this…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alvarez,” Lee tilted her head, “I… cannot believe those words came out of your mouth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged and then gestured to the mimosa. “Me too, but technically I’m off the clock. I guess clubs tend to awaken some things within me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim furrowed his brow, coming to a small realization. “You know that's true, you're much more animated in clubs than bars after work. Although I don’t think I’ve heard you ask for gossip before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Oswald put his hands on the bar, “I don’t know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>gossip</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re hoping to get from me. Most of what I could divulge was already all over the pages of the Gazette. So, you all probably have more gossip than I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee leaned forward, with a slight whisper. “Do we know if it’s safe to splurge the gossip with Barbara Kean sitting so close by? She’s not known for keeping secrets.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez leaned in too. “Which is why I believe she’ll have some of her own to share, but we just have to go first.  And I think I know something that may be of interest to everyone, you especially, Oswald.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald held out his arms, “I'm all ears.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, when Ed still worked at the GCPD, I ca</span>
  <span>ught him redrawing that pencil sketch we had of your likeness. Of course, this was before you were even the well-known crim—</span>
  <em>
    <span>person</span>
  </em>
  <span> we now know. He said he could do it better, but I think he was a little unfair because he already had his own references. One of them was you in a plaid bathrobe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I—” Oswald blushed and then tried to shrug it off. “Ok then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee nodded and tapped her chin. “Hmm, I did wonder why that sketch drawing was a slightly different style to the others we had, none of them had as much detail as that one did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez elbowed her, “He added shading.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald was still trying to act nonchalant, “Did...did he at least get my nose right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I believe so. Although he was very frustrated how he couldn’t properly capture your eyes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well... my mother always did say they were special. I'm not surprised he couldn't capture their likeness.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Oswald was having his moment, Barb laughed. “Amazing, what an idiot. I can’t believe I ever worked with him, he’s so unlike my cool and sexy self.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee rolled her eyes. “Oh, of course that’s you, Barbara</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So are you, babes</span>
  <em>
    <span>.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She said with a wink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...I’ll accept the compliment,” Lee downed the rest of her whiskey, “Thanks, Barbara.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Jim couldn’t be less interested in his exes flirting.  He was instead lost in a pair of </span>
  <em>
    <span>special eyes</span>
  </em>
  <span> belonging to Oswald Cobblepot.  That is until he gets a nudge from Alavarez.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh? What? What were</span>
  <span> we talking about? Eyes? Oswald’s beau—</span>
  <b>blue</b>
  <span> eyes? Or are they green? Sometimes I think they’re green.” He was talking too much, so he looked at Alvarez again. “I’m sorry, you nudged me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was just worried you fell asleep. I know you’re tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Jim stuttered around for a response, Lee beat him to it with her own medical opinion. “I don’t think Jim sleeps with his eyes wide open— </span>
  <em>
    <span>staring at someone</span>
  </em>
  <span>— whilst sitting up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t know his sleeping habits that well,” Alvarez teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now it was Oswald’s turn to be lost in conversation. “I'm sorry, what are we talking about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eyes?” Jim tried again. “Or something else, I zoned out looking at yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Oswald leaned forward. “And did you have something to say about them, Jim?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um...nope,” he lied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should know it's impolite to stare,” Oswald fixed him with a glare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wasn't staring. I was… zoned out, like I said.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mmhm…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim crossed his arms, trying to seem gruff. “I can't help that you're directly in my sightline. I would never willingly stare at your evil pretty villainous face... Wait…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald quirked an eyebrow. “Well then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez came to save his coworker from the conversation. “Does anyone have some more gossip? I mean, we can also talk about Mr. Cobblepot’s eyes if Jim wants, I’m not against it. I just thought we’d all like to talk more about the gossip surrounding Ed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald pursed his lips. “As a host...I suppose I should encourage conversation among my patrons.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim would’ve preferred not talking at all, but he put his two cents in anyway. “Well, given the choice between Edward Nygma and Oswald's facial features...I'll take ‘not talking about Ed’.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez nodded. “So, it’s official.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald looked at him. “I—Wait, what’s happening?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s decided. The Iceberg Lounge’s main attraction is its host’s beauty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Oswald repeated, but then took a breath to try and regain the demeanor of a proper host. “N-Not that I am complaining about being the center of attention, but surely there are prettier people in the present company we can discuss?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez completely ignored Oswald’s question, instead directing his own at Jim. “So what do you like about Penguin’s face the most, Jim?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly all eyes were on Jim. He could feel all that alcohol that went right to his head. He wiped a bit of sweat off his brow. “Um...I mean. It's all pretty good. But, I think if I'm looking at his face, ever really </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking</span>
  </em>
  <span> you know...I think it's usually the eyes. Sometimes the lips…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald interrupted by snatching Jim’s empty glass. “I'm cutting you off, Jim.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-Wait, let me look again, maybe I missed something.” Jim’s mind was on one track now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re—no!” Oswald pulled back. Although that only made Jim lean in.  “What is happening? What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I'm trying to pick your best feature.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez was snickering on his stool. “Uh-huh, there’s so many to choose from.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald looked between the two officers with eyes so wide they might fall out.  He struggled to use his sarcasm as a cover. “I-I take it my best feature isn't my personality?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Both of the cops laughed, speaking at the same time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I mean…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald rolled his eyes, frowning down at the dirtied glasses on the bar. “Ugh, did I forget to water down the liquor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez gasped. “Is that how you sell it to all customers?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's just business,” he shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim winked at him. “Apparently mine are going on some secret tab, so watered down or not, I'm not complaining.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At this point,” Oswald sighed, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> need more than a single glass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez pointed at his empty one, “Try a mimosa, they’re a little sweet and a lot delicious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweetness might do. Ed always had me make him Grasshoppers... he liked them extra sweet.” Oswald smiled ruefully, and then caught himself. “Um, but a mimosa also sounds pleasant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim muttered on the side. “Sweet huh? I just assumed he liked them because they were green. I figured he likes bitter tastes, given that he dated </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>? N-No! We never dated…” Oswald flailed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barbara erupted in laughter and slapped Lee on the shoulder like she was watching the greatest sitcom on television. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We were…” Oswald swallowed, “just friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But we were so sure…” Alvarez slumped. He owed several people in the precinct twenty dollars. Oh well, he could just take an extra shift at Cherry's later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim interrupted. “You were single that whole mayoral arc?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What made you think we were dating?!” Oswald shouted, lightheaded and embarrassed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two officers spoke at the same time. “Um, everything?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim gestured at Oswald. “Come on Oz, I woke up in Ed's apartment to both of you singing. That seemed like a good indicator.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Alvarez whipped around in his seat. “How could I not know this? That sounds adorable!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald mumbled. “It… No. I'm... not his type.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, Alvarez and Jim didn’t seem to hear him. “Singing together in the morning? Bliss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was...weird.” Jim scratched his head, still perplexed by the memory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez shrugged. “I’m a romantic at heart, so it sounds blissful to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Also, was there only one bed in Ed's apartment? I can't remember... How'd that work?” Jim turned to Oswald. “Were you roommates?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like I said, I'm... </span>
  <em>
    <span>not his type,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> he enunciated those last words, gritting his teeth so hard one might chip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean you're not his type? You're just like his recent ex, a beautiful brunette with a bad attitude.” Jim said, the candidness of his words not really registering as he spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez titled his head in this </span>
  <em>
    <span>ex’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> direction. “You mean Dr. Thompkins who’s sitting next to us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everyone else was quiet a moment as they processed the situation. Lee broke the silence with a roll of her eyes. “Ed's type is women that are into choking from what I heard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I...Is this conversation really happening?" Oswald shook the fog from his brain on the off chance this was all just an elaborate hallucination his psyche cooked up to confuse him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Or men?” Alvarez nudged her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Most likely. I can’t see him as straight, no matter which way I spin it," Lee spoke with such nonchalance, Oswald nearly toppled over where he stood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim stared at her. “Wait....wait does that mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> into choking?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well...how’d you know that then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He did talk about Kristen a lot, and when we found the body, we could see signs of choking in the autopsy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but that doesn’t mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>was interested in— Dear God, what am I saying? Why are we still talking?" Oswald buried his face in his hands. Why couldn’t he have just been left alone tonight?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He still talks about Kristen?” Alvarez asked, ignoring the Penguin's futile attempts to change the topic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald interjected with a sneer. “Or Isabelle or whatever her name was.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Every so often, yes.” Then Lee shook her head. “Not Isabelle though. I never heard anything about an Isabelle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim scrunched up his face. “There was another one in the mix?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apparently?" Alavrez squawked, giddy to have such juicy gossip to tell the other strippers at Cherry’s later, "Anyway we’re not having this conversation right now. We’re talking about how Ed is so far buried into self-repression, he can’t tell which way is up!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Repressed or not…” Oswald continued his mumblings, “he doesn't want to have anything to do with me. And that's... that's that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He then took a big swig from his drink, which warranted a comment from Lee. “Wow Oswald, drinking your own merchandise? Are you like this whenever Ed gets mentioned?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> merchandise. I can do with it what I want.” He muttered, “Besides, I was drinking long before you arrived.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez muttered into his own glass. “Like adding water?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald ignored him with a sigh. “I suppose it is my turn to gossip now. Who here wants to know about Isabella?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All the patrons turned his way, and he started to regret offering up the subject.  Either way, he was in it now so he started his story. “Edward and I were supposed to... well... he was supposed to run an errand. And, along the way he met this woman. She apparently looked just like his dearly departed Ms. Kringle and the sad, pathetic puppy thought he was in love all over again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim held up a hand. “She...looked like Kringle?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The spitting image. It was creepy. Although Edward will go on and tell you she wasn’t, even if there was literally only one difference I could see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez took a guess. “Because she enjoyed his company?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She didn't mind murderers?” Jim also threw in a guess.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Oswald mockingly ran a hand through his hair. “She was blonde."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Lounge erupted in bubbly laughter at that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"He missed out on...</span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> plans for some</span>
  <em>
    <span> blonde.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez had a question. “Speaking of, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> your plans? Because I feel like it’s important to understand the weight of the situation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald glanced aside. “He and I were supposed to...have dinner together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A...romantic dinner?” Alvarez attempted to clarify and hopefully win back that twenty dollars.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald blushed, but chose to ignore the inquiry for now. “Instead, he stood me up for twelve hours and scared the hell out of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Twelve hours?! Son of a bitch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought something had happened to him. But no…” Oswald tightened his grip on his glass, “He was just in the arms of some Jezebel. This being the day after he told me he doesn't just ‘forget’ things. But apparently, I am something he can just...forget.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. “Oz...I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee nodded slowly, contemplative. “Huh. I heard an entirely different story.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” Alvarez perked up. “How'd you hear it, Lee?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I heard it from Ed, unfortunately. He went on and on for hours about how Oswald ruined everything, telling me about this romantic woman he met that he was so sure he was in love with. Then he told me that Oswald killed her, and about his whole dramatic revenge story. I could smell the sugar in the words, because he never even mentioned her name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald scoffed. “Pfft, did he leave out the part where he tortured me and humiliated me? Tricked me into believing he shared my feelings only to spit in my face?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, he went into... great detail about that…” Lee looked down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Jim almost got off of his stool. “That seems extreme, even for Ed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald nodded solemnly. “We are what we are, I suppose.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee shook her head. “I know I can't really shame you after my own actions, but this Isabella relationship must have been bad if you resorted to murder so quickly? Or was it just jealousy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Look, I don’t need to explain everything to you about a murder— </span>
  <em>
    <span>accident</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I may have </span>
  <em>
    <span>allegedly</span>
  </em>
  <span> had some peripheral foreknowledge of her demise, but I had no idea Edward would.... react that way after what he'd told me. After everything we had been through together."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim thought about the situation before raising a question. “How'd Ed even know </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> killed her? Besides, that would be in character for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn't kill her. I can say that with honesty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, my apologies,” Jim scoffed, “How did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>arrange</span>
  </em>
  <span> her death?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswlad rolled his eyes but opted to continue, “He found out about...well...how I felt. I assume that was Miss Kean's doing seeing as how she seized the opportunity to take my place at the head of the table.” He glared at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yup, that was me!" She confessed proudly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald rolled his eyes and continued, "It all happened so suddenly. Ed handed me his letter of resignation and told me that it was because he wanted to be more than just </span>
  <em>
    <span>employer</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>employee.</span>
  </em>
  <span> When I told him that I felt the same, I suppose he took that as confirmation that I had something to do with her death. He told me that I had misunderstood him and that it wasn’t a love confession and left. Then he took it upon himself to torture me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez grimaced. “That’s...rough. Can I...can I ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> he tortured you? I mean, you’re The Penguin, that seems a hard feat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You'll laugh,” Oswald looked away. He hated how candid he was being and cursed the alcohol.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim looked very serious. “How is torture funny?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's not...I'm just a fool.” Oswald cracked a dry smile. “I need a stiffer drink.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're not a fool, you're one of the smartest people I know.” Jim told him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I cut you off a while ago, this should be wearing off shouldn’t it?” he groaned, “If you </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> know...I wear my heart on my sleeve, that was my problem. Edward dug up my father's grave and tricked me into believing I was seeing his...well, his ghost. I thought I was going insane. He ended up being one of Strange's monsters who is apparently excellent at impressions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The clayface guy?” Jim asked. “I didn’t think he was that great, at least that's what Harvey said about his impersonation of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well...</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> was convinced,” Oswald pouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait…” Alvarez was stuck on another point, “he </span>
  <em>
    <span>dug up your dad’s </span>
    <span>body</span>
    <span>?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. And then he disposed of him in a dumpster behind a Chinese restaurant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A dumpster?!” Alvarez exclaimed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My opinion on Nygma is getting lower and lower every second,” Jim snarled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s really my fault.” Oswald sighed. “I told Edward everything. Hid </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> from him...and he used it all against me. He had me so wound up and crazy. Then, when I was already out of my mind, he called me and tricked me into thinking someone had kidnapped him. At least he left my mother alone. Small mercies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee hadn’t heard all these details, and pressed her lips together in disgust. “Jesus Christ, this man…he is crazy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, I loved him. So really, who’s the crazy one here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim looked at Oswald. “You don't love him anymore though, right? I can't imagine loving someone after they desecrated my father's grave.” Then he reached across the bar again. “Which...I'm sorry, I never knew your father, but if Ed ever thinks of touching his grave, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gertrud's</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I'd hope you’d let me know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I know who to call should Edward decide to be horrible towards me again. I always knew I could trust you, Jim. More or less.” He gave a small smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez reflected on the past and the present. “But...didn’t Ed help you escape Arkham just recently? I’m so confused at the state of this relationship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald scoffed. “Only because he needed my help. Edward Nygma only </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> me when he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> something.” He then cast a more unsavory glance at Jim. "Which, I suppose I could say the same about you, Jim. But, given how kind you have been this evening, I suppose that is unfair.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All the guilt from every time Jim abused Oswald's favors was visible in his eyes. “Yeah...I'm...I'm sorry about that. I—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was cut off by the sound of the doors being thrown open. Edward Nygma came striding into the club, snow trailing behind him. His sudden appearance was met by gasps and silence and muttered ‘oh no’s.'</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim glared from his seat. “What the hell are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez had a much more important question. “And why are you covered in so much snow?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ed ignored them both as he looked around at all the drunkards, gritting his teeth. “Oh, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> see how it is. Leave me to have your own little </span>
  <em>
    <span>pow-wow</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald had to keep his emotions in check. “You made it </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> clear that my company was unwelcome. I wonder why you’ve followed me here, is it because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez hadn’t moved on from his inquiry. “Are you really not going to answer my question?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was snowing outside!” Ed snapped. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you have like </span>
  <em>
    <span>mountains</span>
  </em>
  <span> of snow… Were you creeping around outside or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ed pretended not to hear that part, instead turning back to Oswald. “I...I wasn't expecting you to leave so soon. Rarely do you just leave like that before yelling...or breaking something. Whichever comes first.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you rather I have yelled at you then?” Oswald crossed his arms and glared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim muttered low enough that only Oswald could hear. “I'd rather you kick him to the curb.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The comment made Oswald smirk and he batted his lashes. In return, Jim gave the quickest of winks. Now Ed’s glare landed on Jim a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, suddenly deciding to side with the police again, Oswald?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am on whatever side gets me ahead, Edward. You know that. Jim and Alvarez are here as patrons. I have no rules against that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Jim puffed his chest a little, “we're off-duty. Which may or may not be lucky for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez leaned towards Ed, a little tipsy, and looking for a fight. “Did you come here to reclaim your place as a centerpiece? Because if so I challenge you to a dance battle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A what?” Ed raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim whispered to his colleague. “Alvarez...you dance?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s how I express emotions.” He glared at Ed. “And right now I’m filled with rage, even if it’s not mine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald looked him over. “Huh, I see why Zsasz likes you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He..he does?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ed waved his hands in front of his face. “This isn’t the point! Look, Oswald, we need to talk. I expected to find you </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> here, but I see you made some friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Alvarez jumped in again. “You mean, he must always be available for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That's not—” He took a deep inhale and looked to Oswald for assistance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oswald relented, tension leaving his shoulders. “Fine. My office then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure you want to leave your </span>
  <em>
    <span>customers </span>
  </em>
  <span>behind?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made you an offer, are you going to continue to waste my time, or not? If you need something, which I assume you do, then let's talk. If you just want my attention, </span>
  <em>
    <span>congratulations</span>
  </em>
  <span> you're standing there making a fool out of yourself, so you have it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine. Your office, then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim watched them go. “Are we sure this is a good idea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez shrugged. “It’s not our place, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barb, much to her style, chimed in with her own opinion. “They're gonna </span>
  <b>fuck</b>
  <span>.” She raised her glass. “So let’s cheers!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez was the only one to clink his glass with hers. “I’m currently not a fan of Nygma, we learned some fucked up shit about him today… but I appreciate the potential for homoerotism whenever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pffft, well they got </span>
  <em>
    <span>plenty</span>
  </em>
  <span> of that between the two of them. Unbearable, honestly. Me, I prefer a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>girl on girl</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She shot a quick wink to Lee.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jim wasn’t interested in any part of this conversation. “Sure, yeah, best of luck to them. It’s not like one of them murdered the other’s girlfriend, or dug up someone’s father…” He noticed he was gritting his teeth. “Anyway I uh...I should probably go home, get some rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barb blew a raspberry as he left. “Party pooper.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez sighed. “That was… fast and anticlimactic. I suppose I’ll go as well. Good night, Dr. Thompkins, Ms. Kean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barb waved and slid a napkin across the counter. “Hmmm, well if you need some company, call me. Toodles.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Alvarez left, but not before he tucked the piece of paper in his pocket.  He may never actually call, but it’s good to have options. Of course… If the Penguin was to be believed and Victor Zsasz was an option… he might just see what the assassin is up to nowadays.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Barb looked around the almost empty club and sighed. “Suppose I'll go see what Tabby's up to. This place has waaay too little bloodshed for my tastes. See ya, Lee.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lee watched her go before downing the rest of her drink and leaving the glass on the counter. She muttered to herself as she headed for the doors. "I focus on alcohol for one minute and so much drama occurs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The club stood empty for several minutes before Zsasz came waltzing in with a milkshake in one hand. He was humming the melody of Tape Five's </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Good Boy Bad Man'</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he stopped and noticed no one was here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Damn, looks like I missed out on a par—" He stopped when he heard voices from Penguin's office. "Oh, has the string bean returned already? Well the boss is going to have an interesting night. I certainly wouldn't want to interrupt their kiss-and-make-up if that's the case. So I probably don’t need permission to take </span>
  <em>
    <span>these</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He grabbed several bottles that had been hidden behind the counter. “Because what's better than milkshakes? Milkshakes with </span>
  <b>booze</b>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With his loot, Zsasz merrily whistled </span>
  <em>
    <span>'April Showers'</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he started to exit the Iceberg Lounge.<br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Artwork by <a href="https://ynngaa.tumblr.com/">Ynnga!!!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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